"No; grandson."
The two whispered together a moment, then one of them said:
"I reckon you're all right, boy. 'Taint wuth while to ast our names, 'cause d'ye see—we wouldn't tell."
"You'd be fools if you did," returned Ralph, his self confidence now fully restored. "I ain't a wanting to know who you are. I know already what you are."
"How's that?" came sharply back, and an ominous click was heard, which, however, did not seem to alarm Ralph.
"Moonshiners," said the boy briefly. "Haven't I been raised among 'em? I've got kin folks as stills regular, I'm sorry to say."
"Sorry! Ain't it a good trade?"
"Not when it lands you inside of some dirty jail. Besides, I don't like the stuff, anyhow."
"No use to offer you a dram then?"
"Not a bit. But I say, if you'll let me go on with you till we get down where there's some houses, I'll think more of that than if you gave me a barrel of whisky."